


Write My Words On The Face of Today

by dixiehellcat



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Round 4 [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Incubus Tony Stark, Loneliness, Mention of bisexuality, Mention of torture, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiehellcat/pseuds/dixiehellcat
Summary: A lonely accountant dreams up a demonic lover. Then things get complicated.Fills the "Tony Stark/Pepper Potts" square on my Round 4 Tony Stark Bingo card number 4028. (required info collected below)
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo Round 4 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009245
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV





	Write My Words On The Face of Today

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a conversation on reddit, with special thanks to babybel_ for the specific comment that triggered it :)
> 
> The characters, their speech patterns and behaviors, may feel a little different from our canon knowledge of them, but remember, this verse is VERY different. I hope I kept their hearts and where they are coming from true, though.
> 
> Bingo specifics:  
> Title: Write My Words On The Face of Today  
> Author: deehellcat  
> Card Number: 4028  
> Link (AO3, Tumblr, etc.)  
> Square Filled (Letter AND number AND prompt) T3, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Pepperony  
> Rating (Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit) Mature  
> Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Alt Universe--Fantasy, Alt Universe--Angels and Demons, Incubus Tony Stark, Loneliness, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Angst and Fluff and Smut  
> Summary: A lonely accountant dreams up a demonic lover. Then things get complicated.  
> Word Count:10,274

Pepper Potts was a lonely woman. Get up, go to work, come home, go to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. Her job in the accounting department of a big real estate concern paid the bills, but it was far from fulfilling. She was no entrepreneur, but she liked the idea of helping somebody else start their business; always had dreamed of getting in on the ground floor of a baby startup and making it great. Her head was full of ideas for improving what she did, making it work better, be more accurate and more flexible at the same time, but the big brass weren’t interested in listening to a peon.

She didn’t have anybody romantic in her life to speak of either. When she had first moved to the city, she had tried the dating scene, but she just wasn’t a barfly. Every article she read online insisted you should go to the places where the kind of person you want to meet would hang out, which she would do if she only knew what kind of person she wanted to meet. She wasn’t particularly religious, or into exercise, or much of a club-joiner. So she spent her days doing what her boss put on her desktop, and her nights binge-watching celebrities eating hot sauce or veterinarians fixing tigers’ bad teeth.

When she started having filthy dreams about somebody she had never seen before, she knew it was getting bad. He was beautiful, the lover her subconscious dreamed up: lean and muscular, with dark hair and a sharply groomed mustache and goatee. His bottomless whiskey-brown eyes glittered wickedly down as he hovered above her, or up at her from between her parted legs. His hands were deft, and otherworldly in their ability to divine exactly where and how to touch her to drive her mad with need. His voice was low and husky in her ear, saying _may I_ and _will you_ , and in her dreams all she could say was _yes, yes yes_. Invariably, she woke from those dreams gasping, shaky and aching and moist as though from a long night of passion. The vibrator in her nightstand drawer gathered dust, as her sleeping brain apparently took matters into its own figurative hands to satisfy her libido too long denied.

At least, that was what Pepper thought, until the morning she half-opened her eyes against the watery light of dawn, and glimpsed—something, moving away from her bed. It couldn’t have been real; it vanished between one sleep-gritty blink and the next, but it certainly looked like the back of a naked man. She was frozen with shock, unable to move or scream, but somehow either dozed back off or blacked out from fear. When her alarm brought her back to reality, she decided it was the sleep paralysis she had read about in college psych class, where the brain started to wake before the body. _That was definitely a dream_ , she confessed wryly to herself, _because that ass, my God, you could write a trigonometry paper about that curve_. Besides, a burglar wasn’t going to get naked in the middle of a break-in—well, not a sane burglar; although this was New York, so who the hell knew.

The dreams stopped for a while, and oddly enough, Pepper missed them, enough that she started to worry about herself. A discreet check on her insurance showed it did cover mental health services, but she balked at facing that dire a truth. Instead, she logged into a library website and got some books on dreams. Lucid dreaming sounded exciting and promising, but talking herself into flying in her sleep could wait. Right now she just wanted to block off the unnervingly realistic sexual dreams. Sternly, she told herself the newly bleak nights were normal, and repeated that mantra as she nodded off.

All of her considerable determination was not enough to hold off her horny subconscious, apparently. Within a couple of nights, Pepper found herself lying in her dream-bed, being worked over by her insatiable dream-lover yet again. The lucid dream research did bear a little fruit, though; she was at least able to talk to him, briefly, between gasps and moans. “I don’t believe in you,” she growled, anger giving her a fleeting moment of agency.

The smile that replied was evil and delicious. “Ah, but I believe in you, my little pepper-pot,” he purred before lowering his head to nibble on her neck and work his way down to her breasts.

Maybe she should look into therapy, if she was so desperate to get laid that she needed fantasy this badly. She continued her impromptu esoteric studies, though, since library books had no co-pay, and they finally seemed to pay off when a few nights later she faded into a fuzzy awareness of a solid body pressed against hers. No nimble hands fondled her to arousal, though; instead, two strong, sinewy arms wound around her. Pepper had had a difficult day at work, and she just was not in any mood to fight. She sighed and persuaded her dream-body’s arms to reach to return the embrace, instead of opening her eyes.

The form jerked a little as though startled, but the next moment relaxed into the circle of her arms with a small sound she knew all too well. It was a sound she had made herself too many times, a little half-sob of frustration and weariness and need for touch. Before she faded back out, she had time to wonder if she had misread the dream, and wonder what she might have seen if she had dared look.

The next night she ‘woke’ into the middle of a gloriously X-rated sensory experience, and this time was able to hold onto consciousness. In fact, she reveled in the beauty her sleeping mind had created; she’d never been an overly imaginative child, and frankly she hadn’t known she had the capacity to generate such. She drank in her fantasy bedmate’s every touch, every feature, every kiss, like water to a parched plant. 

That lasted until, after a couple of climaxes that left her drained, he smiled and rolled out of bed. Pepper popped up on one elbow, suddenly piqued enough to pull her attention from his epic ass (really, whose butt was that, that her busy subconscious had incorporated here? some teen idol she barely remembered from her girlhood, probably). “Wait!” she ordered. He was her creation, after all, so where in the hell did he think he was going?

He launched a lascivious smirk over his shoulder. “What, are you ready for another round? You’re only human, you know. Pace yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can take anything you can dish out,” she countered. Of course she could, he didn’t exist, but she rather liked that her imagination had been considerate enough to give him some snark and sass along with that luscious body. “A woman does have more needs than a few good orgasms will fill, though. Can’t you…stay and chat, a while?”

His jaw dropped and he turned completely around, wrapping a silk robe that appeared from nowhere around himself (unfortunate, since the front view was as admirable as the rear). “Stay, and _chat?_ ”

“You don’t have to act like I asked for something offensively kinky,” Pepper retorted, sitting up in bed. She pulled the sheet up over her bare chest and tried unsuccessfully to mind-magic herself some decadent peignoir, since being catapulted into fantasyland apparently had left her night shirt behind. Dammit, this was _her_ dream-world, it was supposed to do what she wanted it to.

“Kinks I’m used to,” he returned and folded his arms. “Not many mortals ask an incubus to stay and chat, though.”

So her brain had decided to externalize her sexual needs by creating a demon character for her to bang? She hadn’t thought she had that much pent-up erotic guilt. Or, as her co-worker Mary’s teenage son liked to say, _weird flex, but okay_. “Well, I’m asking,” she said while she grabbed her own robe from the foot of the bed and scrambled to her feet. "You’re a projection of my needs, so, come fulfill another one. You have a name?” 

He lifted his chin and tried to look haughty. “Human mouths cannot speak my true name. I’ve been given many names, down the centuries of my existence, by lovers both mortal and otherwise.” Another smirk twitched his lip, and he frankly preened. “Yes, I’ve tempted an angel or two to fleshly pleasure. I’m very good at what I do. Of those names, Antonio is the one I like best; but humans nowadays move ever faster, and names are worn down to stubs. I suppose Tony will do.”

“Fine.” Pepper was amused despite herself. “Come on then, Tony, let’s have some tea.”

“Rather have coffee,” he grumbled, but followed obediently enough, as a thing of her fancy should. “Anything hot is fine though. Hell’s too damp and cold.”

She took pity on him and made coffee, a trifle annoyed again that she couldn’t snap her fingers and get it done (more practice would get her better control of her dream-world, she suspected). She made herself tea, and they sat at her counter. She talked about her job, though why she wasn’t sure; it was like talking to herself, she supposed, for all that ‘Tony’ listened intently. Just having the illusion of another person to spill her aggravation to made her feel better, though. In turn, he spun tales about demonic exploits that surprised laughter from her, along with more silent amazement at her own capability to manufacture illusion. The stories he told were as richly detailed and realistic as the taste of her tea and the chipped edges of the kitchen countertop.

She took their cups to the sink and washed up, and when she turned, he was standing behind her. “Mortals must rest, my little pepper-pot,” he breathed and kissed her, almost tenderly, not like the wanton kisses earlier, and he vanished. Pepper found her nightshirt amid the tangled bedclothes, slipped it on and climbed back into bed. _Back into bed_ , she laughed at herself as she settled, knowing she had never been out of bed, not really.

After that, it became a regular routine. Pepper went to bed trying not to wish for Tony’s presence, willing herself to sleep, and invariably finding herself no longer alone there. They had sex, they had drinks, they talked. She finally got him to cuddle with her on the couch in front of the tv, and marveled anew at the inventiveness of her brain as it concocted shows she had never seen. 

The experience was fascinating, entertaining—and disturbing, when she began to find things out of place. A blanket she knew had been folded over the back of her sofa one night lay rumpled on the cushions the next day, the same blanket she had dreamt she snuggled under with Tony while he threw popcorn at the tv (conveniently cleaned up with a wave of his hand) and insulted the entire cast of some reality show. Cold coffee grounds were in the maker at breakfast, when she was positive she had cleaned it after its last use…except for making a cup for Tony. 

Pepper began to fret; was she sleepwalking? In the mornings, when she locked up her apartment to go to work, she greeted the neighbors she barely knew, and resisted the temptation to ask _hey, did you hear two voices from my place, about three am?_ Not that an affirmative response would have said much; Norman Bates had mimicked his mother’s voice in Psycho.

She fretted so much she barely slept, one weekend; but finally she must have dropped off, because the next thing she knew Tony was crouched beside her where she lay sprawled fully clothed across her bed. “What’s wrong, Pepper?” he asked, his handsome face looking distressed.

“Why are you here? Or even, why are you, period?”

“Most humans wouldn’t have to ask why an incubus paid them regular calls,” he returned, his face easing into the familiar smug half-smile. She usually found it amusing, but now it only pushed her closer to a breaking point.

“No,” she snapped. “We aren’t playing this game anymore. I’m done with my brain jerking me around. It stops now. Maybe my subconscious thinks I’m supposed to figure out its stupid puzzle, but I’m through. You’re going to tell me why I made you up, and then you’re gonna stop bothering me.”

For a moment, Tony just stared. “You…think…” he began, then let out a melodramatic groan. “Of course you do. Twenty-first century and all that. This is why it’s so cursed hard to be a demon anymore! How am I supposed to tempt people, when not only do they hardly acknowledge sin exists, they don’t even believe I exist??” He threw up his hands. “Demons aren’t known for telling the truth, but okay, fine. Ask what you will, and I’ll answer as best I can.”

Pepper suppressed the urge to growl at her mind’s refusal to give up the play-acting. “I already asked. Why are you here?”

“Why did I come after you? To start with, you seemed easy prey, vulnerable to temptation. You were lonely, I could sense it. I thought I had lost that ability, when I—I fell, but I didn’t, who knows why, and Lucifer uses it, uses me, as he wishes.” His voice turned bitter for a beat. “it’s handy for a sex demon to be able to sniff out the forlorn; so that, plus having one of the prettier faces outside the Celestial City, led me to my doom. So much for rebelling to get freedom, I just went from a light bondage to a heavier and more hopeless one that I can never rebel from. I’m very good at the sex, don’t get me wrong, just not so good at the corruption because, with the empathy, I also retained this—need, a compulsion almost, to do something about the loneliness, to, to make it better instead of ruthlessly using it to make matters worse. I’d much rather be sharing knowledge, making things. That’s what I got tossed out of heaven for, to begin with. And...I guess maybe I was lonely too.” He shook his head emphatically, then raked his floppy dark locks back. ”Anyway, that’s why I’m still here, hanging out, instead of doing my job. Sorry, didn’t mean to dump a load of my angst. This is about you, not me.”

“You’re still talking in riddles, brain,” Pepper fumed through clenched teeth, then thought for a second. “Maybe you’re a personification of my stress over my job. I’ve been looking around, casually, prowling job websites, wishing and hoping, and I guess doing what some people would call praying even—putting energy out there, to find something more fulfilling. Are you an allegory? You’re trying to tell me to stop it, to settle down, because a stable drab life is a better lot than taking a leap and ending up worse?”

“No!” Tony exclaimed. “Fuck, no. Fine, you insist on believing I’m concocted by your inner self, I’ll play along. You don’t need to stay there. All that shit you’ve told me you put up with every day—you’re better than that. Pepper, you deserve more, you aspire to more. I know from these nights I’ve spent with you, you have such potential. Spread your wings, my dear pepper-pot, be bold! Just because I failed, that’s no reason for you not to try. I would never ever suggest that.”

Pepper was a bit taken aback by his vehemence. She sat up on the bed side. “You really mean that?”

He took her face in his hands, his eyes intent, almost amber-gold. “Absolutely. I wish the best for you. I’m not supposed to, my infernal masters would pitch a fit if they heard that come out of my mouth, but the dim and chill of hell is no place for you and I will not be forced to coerce you into that. if—if I dared pray, I’d pray simply for that, for you to be happy.” They sat like that for a long moment, before he dropped his hands and took a breath. “Enough with the emotional catharsis. If you want me to go now, I will—”

“No,” she cut him off, surprised at herself. “I mean, if this is why my mind generated you, to encourage me, and you’ve met your purpose, I guess you’ll go, sure. I just…” She trailed off, then decided to just join in the game, pretend he was real, just for once. “Hell doesn’t sound like such a fun place. Surely you’d rather hang around earth as much as you can. I’m not exactly the life of the party, but you’re welcome here anytime.”

For the first time, marveling at her own daring, it was Pepper who moved in for a kiss, Pepper who drew him up into her bed and pulled the t-shirt he wore, worn soft to the touch and marked with the logo of a band she’d never heard of, off over his head and pressed him down to the mattress. Tony looked stunned for all of a second or two before his face split into a huge grin. “Ah, yeah, that’s it, my lovely, seize your power!” 

“That’s not all I’m seizing,” she said while her hands continued their busy work, undressing them both. Skin against skin felt so good, even imaginary skin. Pepper slid down his body, paused to admire his plump, full cock (apparently the scriptwriter hiding out in her skull had decreed sex demons must be _exceptionally_ well endowed) before taking him in her mouth. A gasp sounded and she cast a curious look upward. Tony was propped on his elbows staring at her with a wide-eyed look of something other than arousal. Shock? Horror? “Something wrong?” she asked once she had pulled off the stick.

“I…uh…” He blinked his absurdly long lashes and shook his head a little. “You…”

“Yes?” she encouraged, nibbling and lapping around the head like a kitten with a bowl of milk.

“Um…I mean, I go in to tempt people, to pleasure them. Nobody’s—” He waved one hand in her general direction. “--ever made an attempt to pleasure me.”

Pepper frowned. She couldn’t remember having felt that, not consciously, but if some neglected corner of her essence felt it, and needed her reassurance, she was damn sure going to give it. “Their loss,” she shot back and went to town, relishing every moan she wrung from her fantasy lover (and the lack of need to stop for condoms—really, dream sex wasn’t half bad). One hand she wrapped around his base to rein in his arousal, the other crept between her legs to tease herself to wetness until she was panting herself and rose to straddle him. 

Tony looked almost dazed now, chewing on his lower lip, his gaze still fixed on her like something utterly novel. As she eased down to take him in, she braced her hands on his chest and noticed for the first time a slight dip and a web of fine scarring in the center. She shifted her hands to his shoulders at the same moment he gripped her hips, that awestruck look still consuming his face. The ride was sweaty, loud, and glorious, until she folded onto him, limp and still quivering from her climax, with him still inside her. He rolled them onto their sides and buried his face in Pepper’s neck, trembling a little himself. As pitiful as it might be, she was all in for comforting this aching sliver of herself, so she pulled him into her arms and murmured reassurance until consciousness slipped away.

(The next morning, the elderly sisters who lived across the hall gave her a knowing grin, and she wondered if she had been as noisy in her sleep as she recalled being in the dream. She only felt a little self-conscious, though.)

After that night, Pepper and her horny id seemed to have come to a mutual understanding. Tony showed up in her dreams regularly, assuming a new role as friend with benefits, and she tried not to worry about her sanity too much. His yarns had taken on a bit of an edge, as though, having unraveled the cause of his existence, she could be trusted with more of the creative impulse behind him. Honestly, if she could harness this stuff in her waking life, she thought she might have a future as a novelist.

For her part, she confided in him about her job searches, fruitless as they were. It was entertaining as hell to see him portray a thinly veiled hint of jealousy at her occasional attempts at dating, too. After her third (and last) date with a kind but overly uptight lawyer, Pepper rolled over in bed and woke into her dream-world, to find Tony sitting across the bedroom in her favorite chair with his arms folded, trying not to glare at her. Her imaginary friend wasn’t creeping into her waking world, though, other than the odd funny occurrence that elicited an almost automatic response of _this will make Tony laugh when I tell him._

On one particularly frustrating day, she was almost to the point of just quitting and living off her small savings until she found the right gig. Naturally, that was the night she dozed off on her couch after an uneventful day, and came to hearing Tony’s voice frankly panicky in her ear. “Pepper? Pep, wake up, I need your help!” As she blinked and focused hazily on his flushed face, he went on, “My superior is coming to check on my progress.”

“Progress?” she mumbled.

“With you. I was supposed to entice you, to encourage your dissatisfaction with your workplace and tempt you to do—something, anything, to violate them. Embezzle, steal intellectual property and sell to the highest bidder, something to do with filthy lucre, and help you rationalize it by saying you were hurting a boss you disliked and disrespected.”

“You…never said anything like that,” Pepper said slowly as she sat up. “You agreed the place sucks, agreed they don’t treat me well, but you encouraged me to look for another job, not rob them.”

“Exactly!” Tony cried and threw up his hands, jumping up and pacing around her tiny living room. “I tempt you, you do it, I take off and leave you among the wreckage. That’s how the game is played, leaving chaos in my wake, but I couldn’t do that to you, Pepper. I just hoped you’d find a better gig by now, and I could tell Obie I failed. It doesn’t happen often, I’m good at this shit, so they wouldn’t discipline me too harshly, I mean not harshly compared to the consequences of trying to hide from them, which I should be trying to do right now instead of flailing around here and putting you in harm’s way…”

He rubbed his chest through his shirt, nervously, and Pepper noticed. “Your chest,” she half-asked. “I saw scars.” 

“Yeah, that’s where our grace lives, well not our grace, angels’ grace. Mine shattered when I fell, but a few splinters stayed. Fat lot of good that did. Whenever I tried to leave and they caught me and took me back, Lucifer’d have one of his specialists dig in and pull another splinter out. It, um, hurts, a lot, when they do that.” 

Pepper gulped, struggling to puzzle out why her brain was suddenly going full-on body horror, but her fight to hold on to reason was swamped by her ache for the barely concealed terror in Tony’s eyes. Suddenly, a noxious smell assailed her nose, a stink like old and rotting eggs. “I’ve got to wake up!” she gulped. “That smells like a gas leak, and I’m not—”

“He’s coming,” Tony groaned. “Too late for me to run—okay, Pep, I know, you’ve got no reason to trust me, but please, for your own safety, I need you to act—frozen, basically, until he’s gone. He’ll think I’ve got you in thrall. I’ll get rid of him as fast as I can, but if he suspects you know any of this, he’d—I don’t know what the fuck he’d do—”

A small thump sounded behind her, but before Pepper could turn to look Tony caught her face between his hands and pressed his lips to hers. “ _Please, love, work with me_ ,” he breathed against her mouth; then he backed away, and a broad, lecherous, and very fake-looking smile spread across his face. “There you go,” he purred. “You won’t remember a thing, now, will you?” He looked over her shoulder, toward the thump. “Obie! Hail and well met, and all that stuff. How’re tricks, _gran cordziz_?”

“Tricky as ever, my boy.” The male voice that replied was jovial and unctuous at the same time. “Don’t know why you insist on still speaking Enochian though. Quaint, I suppose, and even a bit touching, if we were capable of such emotions, that you still cling to the language of the angels we once were.” 

Pepper was ready to fight her way out of this nightmare, but then she thought, _you can dream hours in a second in real life, so hopefully I won’t die from a gas explosion or inhaling the shit._ She decided to play along again, and maybe gain self-insight, as she had previous times. She sat perfectly still and let her eyes drift slightly out of focus, wondering why her subconscious was putting her through this. She was hard pressed not to laugh, thinking how if this were real, she’d be a puddle of hysterics.

The smell still worried her, and more so when it grew stronger, until a male figure entered her line of sight and she realized the stench was emanating from him. He was taller than Tony, bearded and balding. “So this is your latest mark? We hadn’t heard from you in a while. I was starting to worry.”

“Yeah, yeah. All’s well. I’m working her over, and I’m sure before much longer I will have persuaded her it’s only fair for her to hit back at the employer she loathes.”

Loathe was a bit strong, she thought, but managed to keep a straight face. The tall man crouched in front of her and leaned in until his face was inches away; the smells of tobacco and whiskey on his breath blended in nauseating measure with the rotten eggs. _Sulfur_ , she thought suddenly, _rotten eggs smell of sulfur, and the devil is said to smell like sulfur._ Again, she had to hand it to her unconscious mind for filling its scenes out with such detail.

The man Tony called Obie let out a small, nasty laugh, and his eyes roved over her face and body so blatantly she had to force back the impulse to cover herself with her hands, even though she was fully dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. “She’s a beauty. You do know how to pick ’em, boy. A little pleasure with your business is a good thing, as good as anything we do can be said to be anyhow. Maybe we can share some pleasure again once this job is done, hm, just you and me?’

“Sure, sure, yeah, nothing to worry about here, you probably need to be going, bet you’re late for a torture observation or something…” Tony kept babbling while Obie walked back the way he had come, until another thump sounded; then he fell silent for a moment. “Don’t move yet,” he warned softly, “he’s been known to pop back in on operatives when they don’t expect it.” He moved toward the couch and sank to sit beside her; out of the corner of her eye she saw him clasp his hands together and visibly shudder. “ _Ascha help ol,_ ” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do. If I run, they’ll find me, like the other times, although they’d probably leave you alone—it’s the 'probably' I don’t want to risk though.”

Pepper could not keep from reaching out to him, this wounded incognito part of her soul that seemed to need her touch so badly. “I know what this is about, I think,” she said and put her arms around him. “I was this close to going in and giving my notice in the morning, just bail and take my chances; but I think this crazy angsty psychodrama is trying to tell me not to leap without having a place to land, by giving me you as a character to empathize with whose bad results go to absurd extremes.”

Tony rested his head on her shoulder with a shaky laugh. “If that works for you, lovely, go right ahead and believe it. I’ll do all I can to keep you safe.” She held him, and pondered her puzzling feelings for him. Granted, it was important to love oneself, but whoever had said that definitely was not thinking of a bit of that self being split off and personified as a sexy, angst-ridden demon.

A couple of days later, Pepper stopped at her usual coffee shop on her way into work, and got into a conversation with another redhead in line, a woman named Natasha. They compared hair care notes, found out they lurked on some of the same social media accounts, and swapped contact information. It was nice to have a friend, Pepper reflected, who actually existed. Meetings two or three times a week, even if just to sit and chat over coffee, became a regular thing. 

Oddly enough, Tony was not pleased. “So, is she feeling you out?” he demanded when he roused her one night. “Has she offered you a job?” 

Pepper tried not to laugh; her wayward id-child was unexpectedly sensitive to careless teasing. “No, though she’s told me a little about her work—she and her boyfriend are launching a business of some kind. She kind of hinted that they need help with the bookkeeping, but a startup definitely isn’t a stable place to land.” To herself, Pepper admitted that if a job offer did materialize, as much as it would be the very thing she had dreamt of (pardon the pun), she probably should express her appreciation but explain she had health issues and needed her insurance. Sometimes, she still entertained the thought that she needed therapy.

“Well, has she asked you out then? What does she want? People generally want something.”

“No, because as I noted, she has a boyfriend. Not that I wouldn’t take her up if she did ask, depending on the nature of their relationship.” She poked Tony gently with her elbow and nestled against him on the couch. “Maybe she just enjoys my company. I enjoy yours. The amazing sex too, of course, but I do like getting to know this side of myself, knowing you’ll always be a part of me, even though if and when I do find a real live lover, I imagine you’ll fade from the scene.” 

Tony glared, and she realized too late she had messed up her part in the script. According to the increasingly convoluted psychodrama her unconscious brain kept cranking out, he was supposed to be lying to his demonic overlords to protect her. She mentally kicked herself and started to apologize, but the fleeting heat of anger in his eyes faded into cool consideration. A moment later, the popcorn bowl was roughly set aside, Tony pulled Pepper into his lap and proceeded to _ravish_ her. 

It went on for what felt like all night, and if Pepper had had any doubts that Tony was the product of her needy subconscious, his inhuman stamina would have erased them. He nipped and teased her, stroked and spanked and sent her over the edge of climax so many times she lost count, crushing his mouth to hers to drink in her overwhelmed moans. When she was too wrung out to utter much more than a mew, he slid off the bed (when had her mind moved the debauchery from the living room to the bedroom, anyway?). “Let this be always a part of you, then, _ol boaluahe_ ,” he breathed. “No real live lover can compare, I fear. May you not have too much regret.”

Pepper was too drained to do much more than blink when he vanished, and then drop back into deep and dreamless sleep. By morning, she still felt wrecked, and was thankful it was Saturday. She lounged around the apartment all day, and went to bed that night ready to stand her ground and not let him seduce her into losing all her brain capacity. But her dreams, that night and every night thereafter, were fragmentary and nonsensical; no logical sequence of events, nothing she could bring herself to lucidity in, and most importantly, no Tony.

A few days later, Tasha texted her to meet the next morning for coffee before work. As Pepper sat waiting with her cappuccino, she turned over the last words she had heard from her illusory bedmate. They sounded like saying goodbye without actually saying it, and she wondered if she had passed—or failed—some test her psyche had set. Either way, if Tony wasn’t coming back, she should be glad her brain wasn’t irretrievably broken, she supposed. 

So why did she miss him so much? Why did she almost want to cry, not at the loss of fantasy sex, but the loss of the tea and the snuggles and the laughter?

She hauled herself out of the doldrums when she spotted Tasha’s bright red hair and waved her over to the table she had claimed. The chatter was pleasant, the coffee was tasty, and Pepper began to relax and pull her mind back into reality. At least, she thought that was what she was doing, until an all too familiar voice came from behind her. “Ah, I chose the right place, I see, since the most beautiful woman in the city, and an obvious close runner-up, are here.”

Pepper froze. Tasha glanced up from her cup, looking mildly amused. “That’s all you’ve got, buddy?”

“Oh, not even close to all.” A hand landed lightly on her shoulder, and another reached past her and across the table to clasp her companion's. “You must be Tasha. Pep’s told me a lot about you. I’m Tony, her…friend.”

It took all the will Pepper could muster to wrench her gaze over. Tony looked, well, as handsome as ever. He was dressed business-casual, shirt and tie. She’d never seen him in anything but a t-shirt and jeans, when he was wearing anything at all. Hell, she’d never seen him like this at all, with morning sun streaming through the coffee shop’s big windows giving his skin a golden glow. His whiskey eyes were warm, and he pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of a body that wasn’t there. “Ohh,” Tasha was saying. “Friend, huh? She’s never mentioned you.”

“She’s private like that,” he chuckled. “People she knows probably think she made me up. Charmed to meet you finally, though. Pep said you have a startup in the works?”

“Yes. My boyfriend is ex-military, and I have…let’s call it a unique skill set, that complements his knowledge base. We want to start a consulting firm, but neither of us have a head for business. We can spot half a dozen security breaches in your average kindergarten classroom, but we don’t have a clue how to go about setting up and running a commercial enterprise. Pepper, that’s really what I wanted to…”

She lost the thread of the conversation, horror sluicing over her like an icy shower. Only Tasha repeating her name several times tugged her back to—whatever this was, because it sure wasn’t reality, despite what she had believed minutes before. “Pepper? Are you all right?”

“I…I’m not sure,” she forced out through lips gone numb. “I’m not—not feeling so well…”

“Forgive me for saying, but you don’t look it either,” Tasha agreed. “Should I call you a cab or—”

“Her apartment isn’t far,” Tony said. “I’ll get her home.”

“No! No, you—” Pepper hadn’t realized she was shivering until Tony’s hands wrapped around hers.

“I’ll take you home,” he repeated firmly. “Again, it was a pleasure to meet you, Tasha. It’s been a long time since I got to talk shop with another aficionado of the business.”

“Likewise, and you think about what I said. You’ve got some amazing ideas and insights! We could use you.”

“Eh, I’m pretty good at thinking on both sides of the line, where security is concerned.” Tony shrugged and flashed that dazzlingly unreal smile.

“Pepper,” Tasha went on, “take care of yourself. It’s a good thing Tony happened by when he did. Give me a call when you’re feeling better! I hope you’ll consider coming to work with us.” She leaned across the small table, dropped her voice and grinned. “See if you can talk this guy into coming along. If I’d known you had such a smart and knowledgeable friend, I’d have gone after him right away too. He's enough of a smartass, I think he and my man would hit it off.”

“Uh, I can hear you, madam,” Tony sassed as his arm went around Pepper’s waist and he steered them both out onto the street.

She moved almost automatically, but the bustle and noise penetrated her daze, and the gravity of her predicament sunk in. “I’m not here,” she gasped. “I’m—still in bed, I guess? Or I’m sick, or comatose or—whatever. I never woke up this morning.”

“You’re wide awake, Pepper, and you’re fine! Come on, let’s walk a bit, we can go back toward the train, or find a bench to sit on, whichever you want. You’re okay!”

“No,” she shook her head frantically while her feet carried on, the traitorous things, as though everything was perfectly normal. “I can’t be okay, I can’t—be awake, because you just interrupted my coffee break and possible job offer, and Tasha talked to you as though you were right there, as though she could see you, and that can’t—” She chased another panicky breath, and a man in a business suit brushed past Tony, grumbling that lovers’ quarrels should be taken to private places. “See? See, these people, around us, they act like they can see you, but you aren’t real, so they can’t be seeing you, and that means they aren’t real either.”

“Pepper! Pep, my lovely pepper-pot…Virginia!”

That startled her sufficiently she stopped ranting for a moment. “How do you know my name is Virginia?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “What do you take me for? I have my flaws, but I always do the assigned reading before I take on an assignment. I’ve memorized your file. I know how you got the scar on your right knee, and how you threw your cousin Bernadette’s ugly clown doll out a second floor window because it gave you the creeps when you slept over. I know the first boy you kissed, and the first girl too.”

Of course he could say things only she knew, since he was a projection of her mind, and that thought didn’t help Pepper calm down any. “I think I’m going to faint,” she panted.

Tony grabbed her hand and towed her down a nearby alley. She stumbled after him, her head spinning, her lungs seizing as she gasped for air. He spun her around, pressed her back against the outside wall of the nearest building, and caught her mouth with his, chasing her lips and stealing her breath the way he had their last night together. This time, though, she refused to give in. She jerked away from the hands cupping her face, and slapped his cheek. 

A movement drew her attention out of the corner of her eye: a tall brown woman of middle age holding a briefcase like she was willing to swing it. “Is this fella giving you trouble, miss?” she asked. 

Pepper wasn’t sure which shook her more, the obvious evil eye the woman was giving Tony, or the way her own hand stung from landing the blow. _You can see him?_ she almost asked, but settled for, “No, just a…difference of opinion.”

“And I deserved it,” Tony agreed. At Pepper's nod, the woman said okay and went on her way with one more sharp look at them both. “I did, totally, deserve that,” he went on to Pepper, “but it worked, didn’t it? You aren’t having a panic attack anymore.”

She cocked her head and realized she was indeed breathing normally. Not that, again, any of that mattered if she was dreaming. She had to be dreaming, because there was only one other option, one that she chose to set aside for the moment. “You can’t keep using kisses to get your way!”

Tony pouted. “I dunno, it’s worked pretty well for the past thousand years or so.”

And there came the elephant tromping back into the room. The anger that swept over her replaced the panic of before, though if she was honest, both were efforts to keep a lid on the welter of emotions beneath, triggered by a simple realization. “You’re real,” she snarled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to!” he retorted. “You wouldn’t listen to me!”

“How long have you been stalking me?”

“I haven’t. Well, not really, I mean I knew you didn’t want me around anymore, I was disturbing you, so I decided it’d be better if I just left, let you get on with your life, make up a cover story that might minimize the, um, punishment I’d be in for, for failing to tempt you into crime. But Obie knew who and where you were, so I thought maybe I should hang around a little while, be sure he didn’t ‘pop in’. Then I saw you at the coffee shop and—I don’t even know what I was doing. I have no impulse control, never have, and I—I guess I just wanted to see you, and maybe touch you, one more time?”

Pepper blinked. “You’re real,” she repeated. Oddly, she didn’t feel as much shock as she would have thought; instead, an strange sort of joy crept through her. “And you have a job offer, based on whatever you told Tasha,” she added with a teasing note to her voice. “You should take it. It’s not true, that I don’t want you around. I was just afraid I was losing my mind. I want you to stay.”

“I want to,” he said simply. “If I could, I would; but there’re so many moving parts involved in being immortal and hiding among mortals for any length of your time. Plus, the longer I stay, the more suspicious Obie’s gonna get. He’d score a lot of points if he could denounce me to Lucifer--I’d probably never get out of hell again, spend the next few millennia chained at his feet or…” A fine shiver quaked his body. “Heaven and hell would both hunt me down, and you too, and I will not put you at risk. I’m not even trying to tempt you into losing your soul, and they’d figure that out quick enough. I stopped that long ago. You’re too good for the likes of me. Every human I ever actually tempted into sin was leaning that way anyhow, I just gave them a shove they likely would have gotten anyway. Not you, though.” He shook his head. “No, this is best. I’ll go back, tell them it didn’t work out and you left your job before I could push you. They’ve tortured me before and I got through it fine, I’ll do fine again.”

He started to step back, but Pepper caught his hands in hers. “Stay,” she burst out. “Don’t go somewhere where you might be—be _tortured_ , Tony—”

“I can’t stay, Pep. I won’t drag you down with me. Above all else, hell is a lonely place, and you were lonely already, or you wouldn’t have asked me to stay and chat and _cuddle_.” The noise he made was half laugh, half sob.

“I was,” she agreed, “but that’s not why I’m asking you to stay now. I—” Her voice quivered, and she was not ashamed. “Tony, I love you.”

“Demons aren’t supposed to be loved,” he said, as though trying to convince himself as much as her, “or to love.”

“But?” she prompted, sensing more behind the words. 

“But I do, and that is why I can’t stay. You’ve finally taken charge of your life; you’re turning it the way you want it to go, so you need to go with it, and be happy. You were better off when you thought I was a figment of your imagination so—so let’s just leave it at that, ok? That way I’ll always be with you, like you said.”

Pepper opened her mouth to ream him out for being a romantic idiot, but was interrupted by a blast of light. What came out instead was a tiny yip of alarm. Tony whirled and placed himself between her and it, his hands raised in a defensive posture, as a human-like figure appeared. The glare surrounding it lessened, until she could tell the form was male-presenting, dark skinned, simply dressed in pants and a loose shirt. The light condensed into a brilliant round centered at his chest, in the same area as Tony’s scars. Though Tony’s wary stance did not change, a small wistful smile touched his lips. “Rhodey,” he said. “ _Ol esiasch_.”

The newcomer matched his expression. “Hey, Tones. Been a while. It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah…same here.” Tony lowered his hands slightly and flashed a quick glance over his shoulder at Pepper, who was sure her eyes were bulging in surprise. “Pepper, meet Rhodes. Well, that’s not his name, because, y’know, that whole angel names thing, but you’ve heard of the colossus of Rhodes, right?”

“Tony—” the other began warningly.

“The, um, colossus of Rhodes,” Pepper managed. “Sure, wonder of the ancient world.”

“This handsome character modeled for it,” Tony said with a faint grin and a jerk of his thumb toward the other. “He hates when I tell anybody, because unlike some of us he has some modesty. He is a warrior and courier of the armies of heaven. And he tolerates me, or used to, anyway.”

“Oh, more than tolerates,” Rhodey snorted with evident fondness. “He is correct that I serve at a messenger from the Divine, however, and it’s in that capacity that I’m here now.”

Tony’s shoulders drooped a little. “I know,” he said. “I know, I’m leaving. You interrupted my gripping exit speech, in fact.”

“You’re nothing but a little ball of drama,” Rhodey said with a shake of his head, “and as usual, you jump to conclusions.” He stepped forward; Tony tensed, but put up no resistance as he stopped in front of Pepper. “A pleasure to meet you, Pepper,” he said with a winning flash of teeth and a courtly bow. “It’s rare that circumstances allow for me to meet a human aware of who and what I am.”

“Uh, likewise,” Pepper offered. “A pleasure, I mean. And, same too. I don’t know that I’ve ever met an—an angel. You’re amazing.”

“Oh, on the contrary, it’s humans who are amazing. Such vision and innovation, never met a problem you won’t try to solve in the most imaginative way. Tony may have forgotten this,” he added with a cock of his head, “but the Divine is a nerd. Quite partial to the more fantastical imaginings of mortals. Born of infinite creativity, you carry that spark within yourselves. We of angelic kind have that spark as well, but since your little lives are so short, you make so much more of them. That was Tony’s problem: he wanted more, wanted to make and build and reach, farther and faster than the plan we are to live by.”

“Stop it,” Tony said with an exasperated huff. “You make me sound like some antihero instead of the depraved thing I am.”

Rhodey opened his mouth, scowling as though to argue; then he just looked sad again. “As I said, the Divine is definitely a nerd. Human creations are as imperfect as they are, yet as remarkable too. I know, Tony, that you are likewise a fan of their works, have been for as long as humans have been telling tales of the fantastic, and you’ve been giving them some ideas too.”

Tony grunted. “They keep messing them up. I never could persuade Tolkien to put more than one female warrior into his magnum opus, try as I might. And I gave Lovecraft some great material, and he had to go all racist with it. I wished there were a fiery pit to throw him into, or at least a real Cthulhu to feed him to. Do you have a point, honeybear, because if you would, kindly get to it, I, um, have to be going--”

The breeze changed direction, and with it came a sudden waft that made Pepper’s stomach clench—the stench she recalled from her apartment filled the air in the alley. Both of her companions seemed to catch it too, and turned toward a spot where a sputtering flame had appearing floating just above the concrete. It widened to reveal the demon Tony had called Obie. “Hullo boy,” he said as he stepped to the ground, “we noticed some odd energies in the area, and I thought I’d better check in on—” He broke off as he spied Rhodey, standing in a relaxed pose Pepper was sure was totally deceptive. “You! What brings you here, Rhodes? Slumming?”

“Doing my duty,” the angel replied, “as you should be, if the love of power had not overwhelmed the power of love within you.”

Obie scoffed, then his gaze found Pepper and his eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve dragged your mortal du jour into this,” he said in a mocking imitation of a parental scolding. “Tony, Tony, whatever will I do with you? Come on, we’ll leave this crawling minion of insipid good to deal with her. Wipe her memory for ‘her own good’, Rhodes, or however you wish to justify it. Although,” he paused to muse, “it might be fun to leave her aware, and come back and track her. An amusing diversion, that—”

“No,” Tony said sharply. “You will leave her alone, or I’m not coming.”

Obie gaped. “Tony, we have plans. I thought you’d gotten over this ridiculous pining for some lot other than the one you bought and paid for.”

“ _You_ have plans,” Tony fired back. “You’re the one who wants Lucifer’s throne, not me.” He folded his arms. “Swear it, Obie, swear on a batch of infernal relics or something. Leave Pepper alone, and I’ll—I’ll go back with you.”

The hint of a tremor that crept into Tony’s otherwise steadfast tone just then broke Pepper. _What the fuck,_ she thought, _if I’m losing my mind, might as well go all in._ “You most certainly are not going anywhere with that slimy toad,” she snapped at Tony, “and you sure as shit aren’t using me as a bargaining chip.”

“Bargaining?” Tony sputtered. “He’d hunt you like an animal, Pep, you know what they’re—we’re—capable of. I’m trying to protect you.”

“By sacrificing yourself? If you insist on that, I think I’d be a lot better protected with you right here where I want you, than off who knows where.”

“Be realistic, that’s out of the question, you know it is…Did you say you want me here? Never mind, table that, it’s immaterial, just because you want me here and I want to be here, that's beside the point—"

While Tony continued to argue, Pepper glimpsed Obie and Rhodey both standing watching. Obie looked baffled and actually glanced toward Rhodey, who just shrugged. “Well, this is all very moving,” Obie finally said, “but we must be going.” He stepped forward and reached for Tony’s arm, and Pepper reacted on pure reflex. He looked frankly stunned when she backhanded him, then furious; his fingers flexed as though wanting to ball into a fist and drive it into her face. Angrier than she was afraid, she glared back. After a frozen moment, he reached for Tony’s forearm again, but the instant he made contact, a fleeting spark flashed from Tony’s scarred chest. Obie jerked his hand back with a hiss and shook it as though burned. The air took on a sharp note like a storm front. He scowled at Tony, and then that creepy grin Pepper remembered slunk over his face and his eyes darted back to her. “Fine, you little twerp. If you won’t come willingly, I suppose I have no choice but to claim the forfeit you put up.” Now, he reached for Pepper. “A spiteful little bitch, but with some breaking she might be useful.”

“NO!!” Tony shouted. A second flare, brighter this time, burst from him and knocked Obie onto his ass several feet away. For a second as he sprawled on the pavement, his form shifted into something inhuman: pale grey rubbery skin, burning red eyes, and sharp teeth he bared beastlike. Pepper fought back a shudder, and a part of her wondered if Tony’s true form was like that. In the next heartbeat, Tony pulled her to him and flung his hands up in a defensive posture again, and she realized she didn’t care.

Rhodey’s appearance changed for a moment too, equally shocking though not grotesque. His eyes widened and kindled with a dark golden flame that echoed the fire blazing at his chest. A shadow shifted on the wall behind him, like great wings spreading. “You never truly had claim to him, Obadiah,” he intoned, “except what you tricked him into allowing, and now his actions have put him forever beyond your reach. Begone!!” With another hateful glare, Obie vanished.

Able to breathe again, Pepper looked to Tony, who looked about as startled as she felt. His hands shook a little as he unbuttoned his shirt to peer down at his chest. It appeared just as it had, normal flesh laced with thin scars, no residual glow. “Huh. I know a lot, not ashamed to say it, but I don’t pretend to know what just happened there.”

“His—Obie’s—appearance,” she ventured, “it changed. I don’t think I imagined it, but it was—”

“Monstrous.” Tony’s voice was flat. “Yeah, the more powerful demons can shift at will, and sometimes it happens like that when they’re attacked or surprised. I never could do it. Obie said it was because I was too weak a demon, as I had been too weak an angel.”

This time it was Rhodey who groaned out loud. “As I was saying,” he said airily, “before we were so rudely interrupted, you’re quite the nerd since you—”

“Fell,” Tony helpfully supplied. 

“Left,” Rhodey retorted. “You did not fall.”

“A headstrong angel who chooses to depart from the fields of heaven?” Tony said with a bite in his tone. “Sounds like a fall to me.”

Rhodey shook his head with that look of ineffable sadness again. “What you just asked, Pepper: Tony has no warped demonic form because he _is not a demon_. He left heaven, yes, because he disagreed; but he believed so strongly that he had fallen, that he was unworthy of the celestial, that he refused to give even me a hearing. Lucifer played on your guilt, Tony, with the help of his backstabbing sycophant Obadiah, to suck you in and get you under their thumbs, but you never hated what the Holy loved, as they did. You never set out to harm humankind. The gates of heaven were never closed to you. You could return as easily as you departed.”

The little shake of Tony’s head was almost desperate. “No, I can’t. I’ve gotten a little too fond of doing my own thing, and of…” His eyes flicked toward Pepper and he bit his lip. “Of other things. I don’t deserve it anyway.”

“Which,” Rhodey sighed, “is exactly what the Holy figured you would say, and I agreed.”

“Wait,” Pepper asked, “God knows everything, right? So didn’t God know exactly what Tony would say?” 

“Um, free will, yeah?” Rhodey lifted an eyebrow. “The Holy knows all the options, but that doesn’t mean folk can’t choose. Angels have free will too; it’s just that, being closer to the source, we’re easier to predict, in general. Present company excepted, sometimes,” he added with a playful glare at Tony, who stared at his friend as though at a stranger. “Anyway,” Rhodey continued, “back to my original mission here. Aware of how you were likely to respond to that offer, and of certain other actors in this scene,” Rhodey looked to her, “the Divine sent me with a message from one nerd to another. I am to say, Tony, that you are offered the choice of Tinuviel.”

Tony visibly startled. “Um, translate for us non-nerds please?” Pepper dared ask.

Rhodey grinned. “One of the greatest heroines of Tolkien’s Middle-Earth was Luthien Tinuviel, an elf princess who fell in love with a mortal warrior. After entirely too many adventures together, she was offered a choice by the creator-god of her world.”

“Her choice,” Tony almost whispered. “To go back to her old life, effectively living forever, or as long as no matter, but without her lover; or to yield up her immortality, stay with her love, live a human life, then die, and…see what happens next.” Pepper caught her breath. 

“The Holy knows you, Tony,” Rhodey went on, so gently. “The Holy made you what you are. You were made of love, which –had its upside and downside. Love of knowledge drove you to leave, love of companionship was twisted by trickery into seduction, but this?” He grinned at Pepper. ”This is different. Even before the little extra added dose of drama just now, this is the first time you’ve made the choice to give up what you loved, the first time you cared more about the object of your love than about yourself. That’s the love the Divine made you for. So, I was sent to deliver the offer. If you won’t come back, you can be your headstrong self and go plunging back into a dank hole for which you were never meant." Rhodey grimaced. “Which you could do, because, you know, free will. Or you can become mortal and stay with Pepper, who, if I may say so, it appears would like very much for you to choose door number two.” Pepper couldn’t help but smile, even through the tears threatening to break through her resolve. “He’s not easy to live with,” Rhodey warned her. “Trust me, I know.”

‘I’m sure,” she returned, then turned to Tony who looked at once terrified and a little hopeful. “I love you,” she told him, “but I don’t want you to give up what you are for me.”

A grin crept onto his face. “I haven’t been that in a long time, really. I never felt like a demon, and I don’t feel much like an angel anymore. After all the time I’ve spent here, I think…I feel more human than anything else, so why not make it official. Besides—” he took her in his arms— “a human lifetime with you would be better than a million years alone.”

Pepper matched his smile. “You even have a job offer waiting,” she reminded him teasingly, “so you can support yourself.”

He chuckled and then yelped. “I need an identity! A permanent one, and I don’t—won’t have any powers to slap something together—shit!”

Rhodey tapped him on the shoulder. “You think so poorly of me?" he tsk'ed and handed over a small sheaf of papers. “Already taken care of.”

“Sourpatch, you shouldn’t have.” Tony excitedly paged through the documents. “Stark!” he exclaimed. “You remembered.”

“Seeing a fella wrestle a wild bull single-handedly isn’t the sort of thing easily forgotten,” Rhodey said smugly, then explained to Pepper, “Not sure who he was trying to seduce when he was working in the court of a Scottish king six hundred years or so ago, but he ended up saving the king’s life on a hunt and was bestowed with the name, meaning ‘strong’. Seemed appropriate for your new life,” he finished with a warm look and a hug for Tony. “I’ll be around as much as I can,” he promised, “but you’re gonna have to take care of yourself, mostly.”

“I can.” Tony gave a firm little nod. “I can. I will. With the help of Pepper. And some more coffee. Do you suppose Tasha’s still back at the café?” As Rhodey vanished in a flash, Tony started back toward the street, then spun and swept Pepper up in another embrace. “I’m the one who’s halfway not believing now, in all this…in you…”

His voice quivered, and Pepper tightened her hold. “You will,” she murmured. “And until then, I’ll believe enough for the both of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tony actually does speak some Enochian in this story--he calls Obie old man and says god help me after he leaves; he calls Pepper my love, and Rhodey my brother.


End file.
